In the continuing spirit of recent “how
to” posts on this blog (see previous post), it is
timely to answer another pressing question. Today we will discuss “How to fly without wings?”. Humanity
has been fascinated by this question for very long indeed – likely even longer than
the question of how to get into grad school. Although entering grad school
might be a first step towards learning to fly.
Various ways to fly without wings have
been proposed. An obvious solution is to make
wings. This idea appeared early on; in Greek mythology, for example, we have the
story of Icarus, who made wings of wax and feathers. Sadly, when he flew too
close to the sun the wax melted, and Icarus fell into the ocean and drowned.
Nice try, Icarus – better learn how to swim first.
Icarus’ failure
reminds us that, gravity being what it is, it is hard to fly without wings
without compromising your evolutionary fitness. More generally, it can be
tricky to disperse efficiently when you are not very mobile. Studies on natural
populations often speculate about the means that dispersal-limited organisms might
have used to reach remote places such as inselbergs, islands, or crater lakes,
or how such organisms managed to spread across vast geographical ranges. Very
often it is argued that transport by birds must have been involved. Alternatively, remote
places might have been colonised by good dispersers, and dispersal limitation
might only have evolved secondarily. Since good dispersers may carry the
genetic material of bad dispersers, it might not even take terribly long for poorly-dispersing
ecotypes to evolve. So for Icarus to disperse more effectively, it might have been sufficient to find a partner
that did have wings – Nike, the Greek winged goddess of victory, would have
been a good choice at the time – and to produce a lot of offspring. Provided
that Nike’s functional wing genes were dominant, at least some of their
offspring might have been able to fly, thereby spreading Icarus’ genes. But since
Icarus never met Mendel nor Nike, and since Greek mythology did not cast any
other potential partners with functional wings (the Gorgon sisters being less
than desirable mates), things unfortunately did not work out for him.
Still, it does
seem a plausible mechanism in nature, as featured in this week’s issue of Molecular Ecology for the
salt-marsh beetle Pogonus chalceus, the favourite pet of my colleagues
Steven Van Belleghem and Frederik Hendrickx at Ghent University. Steven and
Frederik reconstructed the evolutionary history of mtIdh, a gene associated
with wing-size polymorphism in P. chalceus. Long-winged individuals (homozygous for the long-winged
allele) are able to fly, but short-winged individuals (homozygous for the short-winged
allele) are not. Still, the short-winged allele (let’s call it the Icarus allele),
which Steven and Frederik found to have evolved only once, has now spread over the
whole of Atlantic and Mediterranean Europe, a vast area for such a tiny beetle.
This colonisation seemed to have happened relatively rapidly by means of a
selective sweep – an evolutionary process that figuratively gives wings to your
genes, especially when favoured by selection. Exactly how this evolutionary
shift happened is a bit of a mystery, but it is clear that short-winged beetles
have not made the same mistake as Icarus. In addition to occasional rides on
avian taxis, genetic mechanisms involving
long-winged individuals transporting Icarus alleles might have sped up the
process.
Interestingly, these two ecotypes of the
salt-marsh beetle are sometimes found in very close proximity (10–20 m) in sympatric
mosaics. Short-winged populations live in tidal marshes near the shore, while long-winged
individuals tend to avoid that habitat, preferring areas that are more inland.
Since the tide comes in twice a day, and because flying is always an option
when you have fully developed wings, flying is presumably what long-winged
individuals do when their feet get wet. In contrast, there is no escape for the
short-winged individuals upon inundation. But since tidal inundations only last
six hours, short-wings just trap an air bubble and stay submerged, waiting for
better times. This difference in tactics automatically induces partial
reproductive isolation between the two types – making wings a magic trait. So, while occasional hybridisation and a selective sweep might be
responsible for the rapid spread of the Icarus allele at the regional scale,
ecological mechanisms might locally discourage hybridisation, promoting the divergence
between short-and long-winged populations.
Steven and Frederik conclude that the adaptive
genetic variation underlying the local evolution of short- and long-winged
populations has an allopatric origin, confirming that allopatric phases may be
important at early stages of speciation with gene flow. But what I
believe makes this story even more unique is that the salt marsh beetle system
is old enough that we can observe parallel evolution of an adaptive phenotype
(the short-winged ecotype), yet young enough that we can trace the evolutionary
history back to the original mutation (which seems to have occurred no more
than 0.047–0.165 million years ago). Such a comprehensive view on both the
origin and the spread of a gene associated with adaptation and ecological
speciation is rare indeed. Let’s hope this convinces Icarus to apply for grad
school.
The full story:
The
news and views:
Thanks to Ben Haller for mythological advice!
ReplyDeleteHey, I didn't study Greek philosophy and literature for two years for nothing. :->
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